The Hobo Guide to Fitting In in India
During my journey through India last year, I attempted to do the whole “I am such a free spirit and I am going to bleach my hair blonde because I fucking can and I will look really rustic like I have been travelling for three years” thing. So I approached about 17 different pharmacies in an attempt to purchase hair bleach. I slowly started to realise that absolutely no one in the entire country actually uses bleach to lighten their hair; instead, they lighten their skin. This completely bizarre practice is even advertised on TV. There was this one ad where an already-light skinned Indian city girl is sitting in her sparkling pristine backyard (which is most likely bordered by a 50-foot cement wall and a slum home to 600 poverty-stricken humans) praying to god for her skin to be lighter. What do you know! A tube of white-girl skin bleach cream drops from the heavens into her fresh little hands. The ad goes on to show a time lapse of her turning into the Western beauty she has always wanted to be and thanking God for changing her life forever for the supposedly better. I guess this is probably not even as bad as Westerners lying in cancer-inducing UV beds, but this was only the beginning of my cultural understanding of what the typically beautiful woman in India resembles. So gals, if you are planning on dancing on some ethnic dick on your travels to India, you might want to start preparing now, because you are probably far from Bollywood Beautiful.
As aforementioned, you’re going to need to have the lightest skin possible. If you are a pasty bitch, congrats; if not, pick up a bottle of bleach and start lathering up. (Note: I don’t actually condone putting bleach on your skin – that’s kind of fucked). The whole belief that lighter-skinned woman exude more beauty comes from the traditional Hindu caste system. Basically, the people of the rich, higher class stay inside and get the poor, lower class to do the shitty jobs outside. I don’t think I need to explain the science behind that one, but in conclusion, the whiter you are, the richer you are and the more free shit you get from your husband’s family.
Inspired by Miley’s new do? Want to be edgy and cool and chop them long luscious locks? Don’t. Start growing your hair now. Long hair in India is a massive deal in defining your femininity, and Indian men will not budge on this one. I travelled to India with my German friend Sophie who happened to be having a go at the whole Miley thing at the time. In the Western world, we have come to accept that having short hair does not always mean that you are a raging dyke. I think it is safe to assume that this is not the same in India. I must have been asked by every second man I met if I knew yet that my wife was a lesbian. Kind of hilariously ironic considering that we are definitely not married and are both big-time fans of the penis.
Skinny bitches, go home. Quit your bikini-body challenge and get on a strict McDonalds diet. You’re going to need that muffin top for your journey to India if you’re planning on getting lucky. Now I’m not talking morbid: these men just want something to hold onto. After spending a 12-hour train ride with a group of local lads from the Indian Navy, the most insightful and honest thing I remember hearing from them was, “Us Indian men like a belly to grab onto when we are fucking our wives.” Colloquially, thin girls are known as “weak”, as in will snap in half if you bend them over; and I don’t think I would like my toy to break while I was playing with it. So girls, listen up: curves are in, and all the rage.
Tip: Pick yourself up a traditional woman’s Sari to wear – the slight opening of the fabric at the height of the belly is no accident.
My advice in conclusion: If you are an ano babe with a fake tan and the latest trendy girl mop, avoid India. You will be looked at by absolutely everyone as a weak, lower-class lesbian, and most definitely will miss out on the half billion variety of local cock. But hey, everyone has their own reasons for travel; each to their own I guess.